


inappropriate

by orphan_account



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's blurring the lines of professional and unprofessional, but they don't really care</p>
            </blockquote>





	inappropriate

She feels like she’s back in sixth form or university, trying to sneak back into her house after a night out without her parents or roommates catching her. Only this time, she’s not trying to avoid a lecture from her mother or uni roommate, she’s trying to sneak into work without any of her colleagues noticing her. Because if they _do_ notice her before she has time to dash into the toilets and barricade herself in a cubicle to fix her appearance, they may notice her outfit isn’t ironed properly, or that her hair is a mess or maybe (if they’re especially alert) they’ll notice the _great, big, fat hickey_ sitting at the base of her neck. 

Yep, it’s like university all over again. 

She groans as she swipes her pass against the doors and hurries into the building, barely murmuring good morning to the security guard as she darts up the stairs and dips into the nearest bathroom. Thankfully, it’s empty and she has time to assess her appearance in the mirror.

As expected, she looks like crap. 

Her blouse is buttoned up incorrectly, her collar is turned inside out, her skirt looks like it hasn’t seen an iron in _months_ and her _hair_? She pats it down a few times before giving up and snatching a headband out of her bag to pull it all back from her face. In addition to the hickey, her eyes are bloodshot, but she decides that’s not so bad, it _is_ 8am after all and she ca blame that on lack of sleep and not the terrible hangover she’s currently nursing. Besides, lack of sleep isn’t exactly a _lie_ , because (if she’s honest with herself) she _didn’t_ do much sleeping last night anyway.

Her cheeks flush slightly as she recalls the night before and she wonders if he’s left her apartment yet? She’s half tempted to dig out her phone and message him but she _really_ doesn’t know what to say? “Thank you for the sex, it was great (and _damn_ it was), can you make sure you lock the door behind you when you leave?” It all seems a bit…insensitive. 

She whimpers a little and leans against the counter, trying to figure out what the correct course of action here is. She’s new to this, this whole ‘online-dating’ and ‘Tinder’ phenomenon that everyone has gone crazy about but after listening to her friends gush about the amazing people they’d met through the app she _had_ to try it just to see what all the hype was about.

And she had slept with the first person she met. 

Not that she regrets it, because she’s pretty sure she’s just had the greatest sex she’s _ever_ had, but she just wishes she knows what to do. One night stands aren’t exactly her forte and she suspects that leaving the man in your bed while you dash off to work (without evening ironing your outfit) after realising how late you are is _not_ proper one night stand etiquette. 

She decides she going to call him, just to apologise for her erratic behaviour that morning and let him know that she _really_ did enjoy their night together, when the bathroom door swings open and several of her colleagues file in. She squeaks, grabs her bag, and quickly hurries out of the bathroom because that is _soooo_ not a conversation she needs her colleagues to eavesdrop on. She’s been working in the office for the last year and a half and she knows how quickly gossip travels. 

Deciding she’ll send him a quick text when she gets to her desk, she hurries across the building to the canteen, grabs a cup of coffee in the hopes it’ll wake her up properly and makes her way to her desk. Only, she can’t exactly get to her desk because there’s a crowd of people standing around it, all of them peering into the offices that lay just behind her.

“What’s going on?” she asks, pushing her way through the small crowd to dump her bag on her desk, “morning, guys,” she adds, smiling a little as she notices Jet and Droy perched at the edge of her desk. 

“Morning. The new boss starts today,” Jet informs her as he cranes his desk, trying to sneak a glance into the offices behind them, “he’s in there talking with Natsu.”

“Oooh,” Levy hums as she shoves someone away from her desk and slides herself into her seat, “any idea what he’s like?” She powers up her computer and takes a long sip from her coffee, resisting the urge to groan in pleasure as it begins to work its magic on her fatigued body.

“Nope, but…” Droy quickly jumps up, “we’re about to find out.”

The door to the office behind them opens and, almost like magic, the crowd around her desk disperses as they all hurry back to their own desks to pretend like they’ve been working all along. 

Levy chuckles into her coffee as she swivels round in here chair to face Natsu, who is beaming brightly. 

“Morning guys. I’d like to introduce you to our new Vice President, Gajeel Redfox.” 

Levy chokes on her coffee as the name falls from Natsu’s lips because that name sounds _horribly_ familiar, but she figures it must just be a coincidence. Maybe Gajeel Redfox is a common name?

And then _he_ steps out from Natsu’s office and gives them all a wave and _she_ promptly spits her coffee out all over the screen of her computer.

 

* * *

 

_It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair,_ she wails quietly to herself. She’s barricaded herself in a cubicle and is about five seconds away from trying to flush herself down the loo. 

Why does she have to have the worst luck? Her first date in months and her first one night stand in _years_ and she just happens to sleep with her new boss?

What. The. _Fuck_.? 

She wonders if this might just be a horrible dream and she pinches herself twice in an attempt to wake herself up. Sadly, her actions just result in a sore arm because she is very much still in the cubicle and still contemplating on whether trying to drown herself in the loo would be a suitable course of action. 

This just isn’t _fair_. And, to make matters worse, she can’t help but think about how _good_ he looked. How did he even do that? They’d stayed at _her_ apartment and yet she looked like she’d been dragged through four layers of hell whereas he looked perfectly groomed and like he’d spent the last seven hours sleeping on the most comfortable mattress known to man and not blowing her freakin’ back out. 

“Jerk,” she grumbles to herself. How dare he not have the decency to be suffering from a hangover like her, and _where_ did he get the fresh clothes from because she was fairly certain he’d not been wearing that nice suit the night before. When she’d left her apartment that morning, she’d distinctly noticed his jeans strewn over her living room floor.

“Oh _God_ ,” she groans, as memories of their night start invading her thoughts. She’s fucked her boss. This isn’t a dream (or a nightmare), she has _actually_ fucked her boss. And it was _great_ and she very much wouldn’t mind doing it again-

She pinches herself again, “bad thoughts. _Bad thoughts_ ,” she hisses to herself, “now is not the time to be marvelling over your new boss’ sexual prowess, now is the time to be thinking of a way out of this mess.”

Because it _is_ a mess and she wonders if it’s a fireable offence? Could she lose her job over this? Would people assume she was sleeping her way to the top? Would _he_ assume she knew who he was and _that’s_ why she’d slept with him? Oh _God,_ she’s going to be the source of the office gossip for at _least_ the next six months. 

A knock on the cubicle door startles her.

“Levy? Levy it’s Lucy, are you ok? You jumped up so quickly, everyone’s really worried. Even the new boss.”

_Oh shit,_ he’d seen her. Though that’s not surprising considering she _did_ spit coffee all over her computer at the sight of him and then hurriedly jump up and run out of the room. 

“I’m fine!” she calls in a fake cheery voice, “it’s ah…just that time of the month, you know? I’ll be out in a sec!”

“Ah,” Lucy says knowingly, “alright, I’ll see you later.”

Levy waits until she distinctly hears Lucy’s footsteps padding away and the bathroom door closing shut before she emerges from the cubicle. Taking a few deep breaths, she splashes her face with water and tries to clear her mind. 

It’s not so bad.

OK, that’s a lie. This is quite literally the worst situation she has ever gotten herself into ever. 

But Levy is nothing if not resilient and she decides she’s not going to let this defeat her. So she slept with her new boss? So they had an amazing night of sexual exploration and he’d done things to her nobody else had ever done before? So she’d left him sleeping in her bed when she left that morning? _So what_?

Well, _everything_ actually, but she’s not going to let that stop her.

With a newfound air of confidence, she exits the bathroom and makes her way back to her desk. Jet and Droy are staring at her with a mix of confusion and worry but she just waves to them and mouths “I’m fine” before sliding into her desk.

And then her phone vibrates.

A notification from Tinder is lighting up her screen:  _Gajeel Redfox (2)_

Oh shit, oh shit, oh _shit_.

Mustering up every inch of courage in her body, she opens the app:

_Gajeel: Hey_

_Gajeel: Do you wanna…maybe come into my office?_

No. The answer is _no, I do not want to come into your office, I would rather go back into the bathroom and drown myself in the loo,_ but of course she can’t say that so she replies with a quick “sure” and takes several deep breaths before jumping up from her desk and making her way to his office. 

As she knocks on his door and waits from him to call her in, several scenarios race through her mind. By now, she’s decided that she cannot possibly get out of this unscathed and she’s _mildly_ worried that this could end in her losing her job. _Is_ it possible to get fired for sleeping with your boss? She’s not entirely sure, but she _thinks_ it’s probably very unprofessional and at the very least it’s going to leave a blemish on her spotless record.

She realises that this means she should probably say goodbye to that promotion she’s had her eyes on because the second everyone finds out she’s slept with their boss (and she _knows_ they will find out), they’ll all just assume it’s because they’re sleeping together. _Just great._

After a few seconds, he calls her in and she takes another deep breath before pushing open the door and stepping into his office.

She avoids all eye contact with him as she shuffles across the floor and drops herself into the chair opposite his. 

“Let’s get this over with then,” she mumbles after five _agonisingly_ slow seconds of silence - why the _hell_ isn’t he saying anything? 

“Get what over with?” he asks and, for the first time since entering the room, she looks up at him. 

She decides that he looks better than she recalled and she can’t help but nervously tugged at her un-ironed skirt in an attempt to make it look less creased than it actually is. Once again, she laments over the fact that he manages to look so good and not like he hasn’t just done the walk of shame. 

She shrugs, “I don’t know…fire me? Accuse me of trying to sleep my way to the top? I…” she trails off and sighs, trying to think of the right words, “I…I didn’t know who you were, I swear, and - honestly - I quite enjoyed myself last night. I mean, I don’t know if it was as good for you as it was for me but I…” she clears her throat and resists the urge to slap herself across the face, “well…I think…you know….well…I’m…” 

Oh _God,_ she’s rambling.

At that moment, she wants nothing more than for the Earth to swallow her up whole. As if it isn’t bad enough that she’s slept with her boss, now she can’t stop rambling about how good he is in bed! In her mind, she draws and line and decides that she has _definitely_ crossed it - several times. 

“Anyway!” she says loudly, “I just want you to know that…well…I think you get the point. So, just get on with the firing, or scolding, or telling everyone in the office or whatever.” 

To her surprise, he’s smirking. Like, _literally smirking_.

“Is something _funny_  to you, _sir_?” she snaps, narrowing her eyes as she stares at him. Has she missed something? Is Ashton Kutcher going to jump out from under the desk screaming something about her being punked?

“Your reaction,” he says simply and she has to physically stop herself from leaning forwards, snatching up his stapler, and lobbing it at his head. _How_ is he so composed? 

Still frowning at him, she folds her arms over her chest and leans backwards into her seat.

“You don’t seem very flustered,” she says.

“I’m not, not really.”

“Oh,” she raises an eyebrow, “so, sleeping with your employees is something you do often? I’ll have to warn the others.” 

“O-oi!”

She allows a small smirk to tug at her lips as his calm facade cracks just a tiny bit. 

“I _don’t_ sleep with all my employees,” he splutters, and she doesn’t miss the way his cheeks have begun to redden slightly.

“So I’m just one of the lucky ones, hm?”

He opens his mouth to retort, but seems to falter slightly. Something flashes behind his eyes and his smirk returns - wider this time. 

“Yes,” he says eventually, “yes, you are.”

They sit for a moment or two, simply staring at each other, before Levy can’t help but snort a little. Before she knows it, she’s laughing properly and his smirk has morphed into a _real_ grin (which she thinks makes him look even _more_ handsome, if that’s possible?). 

“We’ve really messed this up, haven’t we?” she asks, through the laughter, because really they had quite a lot of fun the night before. Even before they started tearing at each other’s clothes, she had  _genuinely_ enjoyed his company and would have been _more_ than open to another date with him.

His brows furrow a little, “why’s that?”

“Well, ah, you’re my boss.”

“And?”

“And…I don’t know, isn’t that a little inappropriate?”

“I suppose.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Do you?”

“Well, I don’t want people to think I’m sleeping my way to the top!”

“Are you?”

“Of _course not_ ,” she snaps, feeling mildly offended that he would even ask, “but you know…gossip travels fast in an office like this, and I don’t need to be the topic of discussion at the water cooler.”

“Ah,” he hums for a second or two, “what if we’re discreet?”

“Discreet?”

“That’s what I said.”

The urge to lob the stapler at him is back with a vengeance, “you mean like, see each other in secret?”

“If you’d be up for that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “because, you know, I…uh…I really enjoyed last night,” he says the last bit ridiculously quickly, and it’s a miracle that she manages to hear it. But she does, and she can’t help the bright smile from spreading across her lips. 

A small voice in the back of her mind tells her that this can only end badly, but at that moment she doesn’t really care.

Instead, she scooches her chair forwards a little and smiles at him.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have a soft spot for one night stand aus lmao


End file.
